(A/N) aha! Caught you at the beginning, happy holidays and hope you enjoy what should be an only action packed chapter.
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("Z-zukki isn't here") Thought her only admirer, as he watched a vicious contest that began to overtake the punishment Zukki takes on a daily basis. Two tall men wailing at each other and a smug looking peer taunting her enemy as she gets mobbed. The sun had not even gotten anywhere near the top of the sky at this point and he was questioning just what exactly he should do. Being active in a fight never crossed his mind–"zukki was just enjoying the defense" he rationalizes it as. But as he tries to imagine Zukki in this situation all that comes to mind is her being the aggressor.
Wham
The burly man with choppy black hair had been struck by a fist. His hand crushed into his own face. It sent him back a step.
"Guuaaaaah" 25 roared as he pulled his right first back. Slamming his left into the burly man's face.
After it connected the reject continued to throw haphazard strikes, twisting his core as if it were second nature. Digging his heels in the ground as each strike seemed to pepper the burly man, who was stunned from the first attack.
25's fists whipped through the air. His aim was vague, but sharp. After several strikes they stopped denting the man's body, the man opposing this lanky reject had caught a right hook aimed at his face again.
"Boney, I'll give you that" he remarks with a sneer while cocking his own fist backwards. There wasn't a delay as it ran straight to the lanky reject's face.
25 couldn't even react as his head snapped back. All he could do was put strength in a back foot and mean back into his right arm.
The burly man pulled him in by that same right fist. The one he blocked proper this time, gripped tightly. His left knee rose up and collided with 25's ribs.
Contorting around the pain his arm wrapped around the limb in reaction to the pain. His mind snapped awake after receiving the strike. His fist moved right away from its position at his side to drive home a reciprocal level of damage. Only for the boney knuckles of his to stop taut against what felt like a break wall.
The burly man's mouth twisted into a spiteful grin as he suddenly felt like a towering presence over the lankly brute. "Hehahah, don't you forget where you started" he spits while rocking 25's head with another quick right straight.
25 did not let the leg go as his face was getting pummeled by slow, but convective strikes to the head.
Wham
Wham
Wham
Finally his grip on the burly man's leg was starting to release and at that same time the crowd started to converge. As if all the various sections of one two hundred or so rejects came crashing in.
In the corner of 25's blood stained eyes he saw his current target getting grasped by countless hands. An attack that was meant for him, redirected to another jaw. His own jaw clenched shut as his growled low.
"Get out of here... He's mine!" He prepares to leap at the crowd only for his leg to be stuck to the ground. Unable to leave the gravel he watches as his prey gets stolen by a horde of starving rejects.
Holding his foot, no, grasping at it like he wanted to tear it off was a man with very distinct hair. The Saiyan with the mohawk was radiating murderous energy from his spot on the ground. Blood covering his face at this point. Smeared from the beat down moments prior. His eyes bored holes through the man's head.
25 was annoyed to have his leg stuck to the ground. With his focus on the man with the mohawk he began shaking his leg rigorously before kicking at him with his other legs.
"Get off the boss," said one of the impish goons.
"We took you down already" the other idling goon added.
When 25's kick flew it hit air as the mohawked saiyan let himself be brushed off. He rolled back on the ground before attempting to push off the ground. The pain aching his head made the effort rougher than it seemed on the outside. Through gritted teeth he was reminded that failure now meant living this hell again.
Thud
Thud
Two weak kicks slammed onto his ribs, not the lanky brute, but his lackeys. The attacks felt like pinpricks in comparison to the throbbing headache. Still it didn't help to be kicked while he was down.
"Stay down!" One grunted as his leg reeled back and drove in like he was kicking a football.
"The boss will just sit you down again, welcome home, we'll make sure your bed out there is warm without you" the second one spat, his voice an irate screech that was the only source of true damage to the one being ribbed.
25 had already lost interest in this post beatdown scuffle as he looked to the burly man still struggling to take down handfuls of rejects.They just seemed to keep coming. Each strike took one out and they hardly could dodge or block in response. With a deep growl he prepares to step towards the pile up and rip his prize free.
"Shut the F*ck up" Mohawk yelled out as his hand gripped the goon with the big mouth.
His hand clenched the teen by his cheeks and forced him to be quiet. Then he whipped the goon into the other.
Crack
Their heads slammed together in a disgusting sounding hit that shut them both up successfully. The crowd's focus had long shifted away from the Mohawk as he was able to return to a standing position. His tail dropped, but slowly picked itself back around his waist as his fists clenched. Wiping the blood out of his face he took his first step just a moment after 25.
His attention now laser focused on immediate revenge and it was going to be so sweet.
His gait was steady as one step turned into two. Sliding in on the gravel, coming to a stop, his body twisted so that his leg would gain enough force to whip into a high kick. One that would hit the unguarded man's head.
The attack came in and struck before the lanky man could not even register the sight in his peripheral vision. Just, one moment targeted anger and the next–darkness. The sudden shock of pain and robbery of his consciousness kept him lingering on his feet for a moment too long.
Mohawk wanted to lick his lips at the sight, but his instincts took over and his next attack was already prepared. Fist cocked he drove it straight into the wide open chin the lanky brute couldn't protest.
Wham
25's body rose up off the ground and landed a foot away from his initial spot. He laid on the ground with his arms and legs spread wide.
There was barely a moment of reprieve while he was taking deep breaths to gather his muddled throbbing mind. Now he and the lanky brute matched; two faces painted blood red with their own injuries.
Part of the remaining section of rejects drowning the burly man and the remaining combat worthy ones standing aside turned to face the mohawked saiyan. The retaliation and knocking out three rejects shone a spotlight on him and all he could say was...
"Worth it.." with one last exhale he runs towards the crowd. Diving in with a punch to a random face.
***
Just a moment prior, the woman with the longest legs in the yard, number 69 wore an armor chestplate with a missing shoulder piece. Her short, spiky, and pixie style hair had the same edge that her sharp eyes held. Her fingers gesturing a "come get some" at her furious adversary.
The woman she had sent careening into the all consuming crowd of rejects was one of the failures who fell in the middle of the night. With stiff shoulder length hair and a cold calculating gaze. Each of the rejects her frozen fury came across got knocked out as she struggles to free herself. Taking one out at a time, blocking attacks that were aimed at vitals.
Finally as she dug her way out of the pile, the woman met another set of white soles. The person responsible had repeated her attack. This time she saw it coming.
Exhaustion had other plans for her as she could only block it. Both points of contact this time. The attack sent her falling back into the horde of rejects she just fought to escape from.
With an annoyed, angry gasp escaping her lips she would eventually kick the last obstacle in the way of her current freedom. Fully expecting yet another drop kick she dove forward and out the way. Refusing to dig her way out of that mess so soon after just doing it.
"I'm not going to spend my days fighting false wars for the starting line again... I refuse to be held in this disgusting hole." She started spouting condescension from her position among the gravel. It is scraping against her tiring form.
Pushing up from the ground with as much strength as her body could muster. Needing to rise before ("long legs").
A reject rushes after her as she stands. The woman doesn't even properly glance at the person as she rocks them with a fist. The sound of gravel crunching directly behind her made the woman whip her arm around in an attempt to guard. Instead she parried the twin legged attack when she unfurled like a coiled spring.
Forearm forcefully brushing her to the side by way of her shin. It made her twist in the air and land horizontally in front of the woman who came from the sky. Immediately she retaliated with a downward punch to the rejects back.
Her fist crushed the gravel beneath as the reject rolled to the side moments after she landed. Twisted her body to lift her leg in kick from the ground. The tip of her boot aimed in the direction of her adversary's chin.
The woman titled her head back, dodging the kick, but feeling the wind of it against her face. ("That would have hurt") She thought.
An approaching reject from the side ran in with a fist cocked.
Crack
A sick sound resulted from a haphazard reaction from the woman. The sound even shocked her as she had countered with a punch with nearly all her strength behind it. The damage wasn't from underestimation, oh she had done that plenty, but from her loss of focus. She was sure that with her full effort one of these strangers couldn't survive an attack from her.
This made her take her eyes off the reject rolling away with her long and dangerous legs. The woman with ridged hair snapped her attention to the sky almost immediately with her heart briefly filling with an anxious dread.
As she saw the dots, her anxiety directed at them. Two observing saiyans.
"That one we'll have to toss in a pod later." Spoke a bored woman.
"Definitely a failure if she's letting her guard down around much filth..scratch that it's worse that her guard even needs to be up." The man condescended punctuated by "Filth"
The moment of anxiety ended a moment too later as the woman found herself reacquainted with a pair of white soles. This time she didn't get to block it.
Her already bruise widened and throbbed, not as much as her head as she was struck there too. Her body sent flush backwards sliding on the gravel for a brief moment. Her body made the smallest trail in the gravel until she stopped.
Blood splatted from her nose as it was covered in the metallic tasting liquid. The pinkish/reddish pebbles doing a great job hiding the increasing spots of wet darkness scattered about.
In spite of the devastating attack the woman's eyes remained open as she gazed up at the sky. Freedom hadn't mattered to this person until now when it felt threatened. Something in her snapped as she decided that whatever punishment killing a reject would be, wouldn't be as bad as being subjected to this prison. Especially if it was half as bad it was described outside its walls.
Through the group of rejects attacking him to the ground, the burly man also felt as though he did not want to be left in this cesspool. He too had been holding back, even more so than the woman after feeling how the rejects took his attacks at the start of this day.
The woman, now dropping blood from her crooked, stood up with resolve in her eyes. Just as the burly man roared at the top of his lungs
***
"Grraaaaaa" the burly man out in the midst of the battle Royal roared so that all in the base could hear it.
Rushing over and to the side of some of the rejects, a slippery devil arrived by a scruffy haired boy a tad shorter than him. "When the sun returns..we take down the big one" he spouts without confirmation.
The slippery teen had rushed over to several of the fresh faced rejects relaying a plan of his. Really it seemed like half of the idea, as he licked his lips, but one toddler felt compelled by the idea. They seemed to get along well in just the brief exchange.
300 is that sly teen reject, his tail failing behind him as his legs carried him as far out of the burly man's sight he could be. All while scampering around to relay his message.
Looking up at the sky, the sun was rising closer to the apex of the day. A cloud was inching towards blocking it briefly and casting a shadow over them. "When the sun returns" meaning when it stops being obscured by the stray cloud of possibly a handful in the sky.
When the time came and the sun kissed them once again, 300 stopped licking his lips as he closed the distance. Looking for that magical opening once again. He drooled in anticipation for when the man would be open to another sneaky rising headbutt. Not even stopping to confirm he even had allies, the teen boy marched in and readied himself for the ultimate squatting position.
Only one followed him into battle while the others he spoke to simply stalled or outright refused.
The burly man had been putting more weight into his attacks, cracking bones as he sent rejects tumbling and crashing aside. His attention whole heartedly on dismantling the rest of the rabble.
The moment of deja Vu didn't register within the man as a black blur reached his eye sight. The stiff crash of a skull against his jaw only softened by the titling of his head back on his instinct. His eyes wide awake as his glare pierced the teen boy in the air.
300 had put himself in a precarious position, the thought of being covered or his back being defended didn't occur to him. Yet as a boy cried out while dashing in, he felt a split second of relief. Only for that feeling to be dashed right away as jagger ran into a sideways boot. An attack courtesy of mohawks side kick.
"Just, no." He denies while watching another reject getting launched.
300 could only interject his arms in front of the burly man's incoming punishment. But as he felt his forehead start to bend unnaturally inwardly, he started to regret things. The pained look in his eyes could only be seen briefly as in the next moment as the punch carried through, the teen boy was sent cleanly several dozens of feet in the air before landing outside of the yard itself. If this were a Pokemon battle, the attack was super effective and the reject fainted. Though in reality his consciousness was robbed from him.
The three failures wipe the blood from their faces, breathing heavily while at least a hundred rejects remain. None of them even acknowledge each other or the fact that one of them was honestly an embarrassment and hadn't even lasted till the sunlight. That he might not ever regain consciousness.